


if you're not here with me

by cerie



Series: Payback [2]
Category: Canadian Actor RPF, Sanctuary (TV) RPF
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Holiday, Manhattan, NYC - Freeform, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Semi-sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/538324">so i cross my heart and hope to die.</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“It’s after midnight.  Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, getting a warm, soft laugh from her in response.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“Merry Christmas.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	if you're not here with me

**Author's Note:**

> For: waterfights, madamfruitcake and the whole hotwrong crew. Merry Christmas. ~~I'm going to hell.~~

I'll have a blue christmas without you  
I'll be so blue just thinking about you  
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree  
Wont be the same dear, if you're not here with me

\- _Blue Christmas_ by Elvis Presley.

***

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

It’s petulant and obvious and Robin sort of wants to knock his shoulder into Amanda’s and drawl out, “No shit, Sherlock,” but he knows she has other reasons for being upset. They’re stuck in the airport, New York this time, and Amanda’s supposed to be on a flight to Hawaii with her family and not stuck in an uncomfortable chair next to him. He reaches over and squeezes her shoulder lightly, comforting her, and is rewarded when Amanda leans into him. 

“Yeah. Snow’s still coming down thick and I think they’re going to ground everything. We can just get a hotel room and try tomorrow, right?” Amanda nods and while she doesn’t need him to handle this for her, Robin wants to. Amanda’s a mom and a producer and Always In Charge and he wants, just for a little while, for her to be able to relax and be comforted that someone else is going to make sure everything ends up okay. 

Robin haggles with the ticket agents and gets informed (pretty sternly) that there are “No available flights on Christmas Day from New York to Vancouver, Mr. Dunne, please settle down.” He guesses it’s a hallmark of Canada that they’re pretty polite and he shrugs and goes back to collect Amanda. It seems, too, that a whole lot of other people got grounded tonight and the hotels are filling up fast. He and Amanda at least have the luxury of a lot of available cash and they book at the Plaza. Might as well go all out if they’re stuck in New York for Christmas, right?

They share a cab from the airport to the hotel and while they do, Amanda is making apologies over the phone to Alan and Olivia. Her voice sounds like it’s close to breaking and while she’s a good actress, it’s hard to act like everything is going to be okay when she’s away from her family on Christmas. When she finally ends the call, her voice is soft and far away and Robin doesn’t have to think very much before tugging her into his arms to hold her while they’re in stop and go traffic. 

One of the nice things about New York is that it’s always done up right for Christmas and when they pass the Plaza, Amanda’s mouth lifts into a hint of a smile. He’s always lived and died by that smile and the fact that he’s getting to see it now is a miracle. The last thing he wanted was for this trip (for him, actually, because he’s trying to get work and wanted Amanda to run lines with him) to interfere with her actual life back home and now it has.

Still, he’s not a good enough person to be upset that Amanda is stranded with him for Christmas and he tries to tamp down those feelings and focus on getting their things out of the cab and up to their rooms. They managed to get adjoining, as usual, and when Amanda announces she’s going to take a long bath, Robin figures that gives him a little time to work with in order to make things...a little more festive.

The thing about the Plaza is that they pretty much will give you whatever you want and having room service send up a full meal consisting of nothing but Christmas cookies, cocoa and eggnog isn’t really a hardship. Neither are the gi-fucking-gantic poinsettia arrangements or candy canes or the little miniature Christmas tree. Robin does up the living room in his suite as best he can and thinks that it makes a halfway decent Christmas scene, so far as those things go. It doesn’t hurt any that the snow’s still coming down in fat, fluffy flakes and making the city seem a little quieter in a way that Manhattan never actually is.

It’s close to an hour before Amanda emerges and the knock on the connecting door is light and unassuming. Robin opens it wide and ushers her in, letting her take in the fact that he’s a complete idiot and made his hotel room look like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer threw up all over it. There’s an iPod dock in the corner and he’s got the most obnoxious Christmas music he can find on it. Amanda shakes her head and turns around to leave.

“Hey, where are you going? This is quality Christmas spirit right here. I got elves to bring this shit in from the North Pole and everything.” Amanda laughs and when she comes back, she has two things in her hand: one of them is her iPhone, which summarily replaces his in the dock and starts pumping out some Celtic Classic Christmas stuff that Robin doesn’t know the name of but is fond of anyway and the other is a little wrapped present. Oh. 

“This is for you, dork,” she says, beaming bright, and pushes the little package into his hands. He feels like crap because he didn’t actually buy her anything. Since they hooked up in Montreal a few months ago, Robin’s felt a little awkward around her. He doesn’t want their friendship to change because he occasionally wants to sleep with her and he guesses that by being extra cautious, it _did_ change. He wouldn’t have thought twice about giving her a present last year. Everything’s changed this year.

Robin carefully opens the paper. This is really a ploy to make him look like an actual adult because his first desire is to rip it open like a six year old and jump straight in the air, hyped on sugar and anticipation. There’s a flat white box inside, the kind that holds jewelry, and when he opens it, there’s a watch. It’s an expensive watch and it’s not really the kind of present you just buy a “friend,” even friends as weird as he and Amanda actually are. Oh.

“Turn it over.” He does, and there’s an inscription about how she always has time for him, love, M. It’s really sweet and Robin puts on the watch before leaning in to brush a kiss against her cheek; Amanda turns at the last minute and meets his mouth with hers, full, lush lips pressing up against his and demanding a response. He doesn’t really know how to feel about _this_ , exactly, but his hands and hips have a pretty damn good idea and tug her close, demanding more. He and Amanda haven’t actually kissed all that much in spite of what photographic evidence is out there and kissing her when he’s completely sober is a new experience entirely. It sets a shiver down his spine and he feels like every place where his body touches hers is on fire. He has to wonder if he brings out the same reaction in her.

When Amanda breaks the kiss, she lifts her hands between them and works a few of the buttons free on his shirt. Robin arches a brow in question and Amanda waggles hers in response, suggestive and silly all at the same time. He brushes a kiss against her forehead. “You know, last time we ended up in this situation, I said I owed you one. I owe you payback from Montreal and I haven’t cashed in.”

Amanda laughs and this time it’s high-pitched and girlish, a nervous tell. She tilts her head toward the bed and Robin nods, pushing her back that way with careful steps. In spite of owing her one, payback, whatever you want to call it, he’s really not pushing this with her. He’s not ruining one of the best friendships he’s ever had just for a booty call and while he’s not going to say that Amanda Tapping is the love of his life or anything, she’s a hell of a lot more important to him than getting off. A hell of a lot more important.

She’s in a t-shirt and yoga pants after her bath and Robin is pleased to discover that when he hooks his hands in the soft cotton and works them down, she doesn’t have any panties on. Typical. She still smells like soap and sweet vanilla and he’s pretty grateful that he thought to eat some of the peppermint before she showed up and decided she’d prefer to have their lips connected, thanks, because that could have been really fucking awkward after a whole day in the airport.

Amanda sits spread eagle on the bed with her feet flat on the floor and Robin kneels between her legs, thumbs and fingers gliding over all her smooth skin and just memorizing every little freckle and every little sound she makes as he touches skin that he’s never seen before. If they’re going for 1:1 payback, he owes her this, but he’s pretty sure that the pleasure in it is still going to be about 60% his. 

He’s always loved going down on a woman. There’s something really intimate about that and while some guys might look at it as foreplay or a means to an end, Robin really just loves it for its own sake. He loves getting to taste her, getting to see her close up, getting to make her moan. He thinks Amanda’s going to be more responsive than most and he lightly drags a finger through her folds just to test that theory. Oh yeah. There’s a gasp and a curse and it’s all so fucking promising.

He doesn’t play around about getting his mouth on her then and presses his tongue into her, around her, anywhere but right on her clit where she wants it. Amanda’s not shy in bed and she slides her hand in his hair and pulls; Robin’s actually pretty fucking glad he hasn’t cut it in a while so she has something to hold on to. He turns his head a little and scrapes his stubble against her thigh. He tries to do it lightly, so there’s no marks, but he figures if Amanda’s flirting around with this and him, Alan has to know. They have to have worked it out between themselves and Robin refuses to let himself feel guilty about something that feels so fucking good.

She’s so wet that she practically slides against him whenever she rocks her hips up against his face and he moves his tongue faster when she starts panting and biting her hand in order to keep from making noise. He figures it’s probably okay in a hotel as big as this one but if Mandy is a screamer and doesn’t want him to know about it, maybe he ought to keep the theatrics to when he’s at his own place. He knows it’s over when she cups the back of his head and holds him in place so all he can think, breathe and taste is _her_. Oh yeah. It’s good for him. It’s got to be phenomenal for her.

When she relaxes enough that he can stand again, he sprawls beside her on the bed in the same position: legs hanging off the edge, feet flat on the floor. He slides an arm around her and brings her in close, checking the time on his new watch while he does it. He grins and toys lightly with her hair.

“It’s after midnight. Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, getting a warm, soft laugh from her in response.

“Merry Christmas.”


End file.
